Travel Diary
Reminders for Living
Morning coffee thoughts from my apartment in Paris
It’s 8:00 am on a Wednesday and I am drinking coffee in a cozy apartment in the Montmartre district of Paris. A light rain against the window encourages me to keep this dainty porcelain cup full and linger. I have some fresh eggs, a little cheese and a ripe melon that will serve as a nice breakfast. I will shower and stretch. I want to talk to my mom and my sister today, it is Wednesday after all. I am at peace, resisting nothing, I am reminded how everything comes with ease when I lean into it. I have nowhere that I need to be and that is one of my most favorite things in the world. I can hear the rustling of neighbors making breakfast and showering and the clicking of locks as they head out to work for the day. I can feel the automation of the day begin and I want to stop everyone as they head out the door, coffee cups in hand, newspapers tucked under jacket-clad arms. I want to peer into their hurried faces and ask:
Do you know that your time is limited?
Do you know that you can change your life completely at almost any time?
Do you know that you don’t have to live a conventional life?
Do you remember what makes you really happy?
I’m only asking because I forgot somewhere along the way of making everyone else happy and checking off to-do lists and paying mortgages and writing holiday cards and getting the oil changed and making it to the gym on time and answering 200 emails before lunch. I forgot what kind of music I liked. I forgot how much I love to dance. I forgot the names of movies I loved. I forgot that I actually love wearing colors even though black and white is easier to match. I forgot that I love silly girly things and how fun it can be to embrace that side. I forgot I didn’t have to be tough all the time to keep myself safe. I forgot how dang good being loved feels when you don’t have to keep yourself guarded. I forgot that it is not my job to make other people happy, to make sure everyone gets along and to crisis manage for everything, everywhere, all the time. I completely forgot that my only job is to live my life in the most authentic and fulfilling way possible.
I heard this quote from author Elizabeth Gilbert yesterday and it resonated with me. Whenever I was asked what I wanted to do when I grew up, my natural answer was that I simply wanted to live my life to the fullest. That is sadly not on the list of careers at college orientation, so into Undecided Major I went until I found sociology then stumbled into economics and wound up with two degrees and a minor in business and a job in finance then a high-paying career, my own successful business and a handful of executive level jobs that still found me wanting to live my life for a living. Everyone asks what you want to be not who you want to be. They ask how much you want to make, not how you want your day to go.
“A creative life is any life where your decisions are routinely based more strongly on your curiosity than your fear. Every single day, in all realms of your life. And then your life itself will become a work of art and it doesn't matter what you make or produce or leave or influence. You will create a life that will be really interesting for you, which is the person who you want to keep most entertained.” — Elizabeth Gilbert
I am often asked if I am as happy as I look these days. While life isn’t always perfect, I am deeply full of joy. I often have so much happiness that it spills right over the brim of my cup and I don’t even bother trying to save it or wipe it up. I stopped worrying about my joy being a limited resource that I needed to hoard and measure out carefully, in fear that it will run dry. I let it overflow, I let strangers have it for no reason, I try to leave it in my wake. The challenges I face in my life are no longer the stressful struggles they used to be. Now it’s more like a week with no hot water, an excessive travel delay, unexpected food poisoning, or a feeling of discomfort that arises where I can see I need to work on something inside. Sometimes things chafe — I want right and life goes left, and I have to think about why I am pulling so hard for my way. Does my way matter? What does yielding look like? Is it my ego? Is it fair? Do I lose anything by pausing? There’s room to grow, but growth brings happiness as well.
I was making dinner in Ghent, Belgium the other night and one of the guys walked by and remarked that my cooking was another art of mine. And it is — it is all art. My paintings, my cooking, my photography, my writing, the time I spend, the way I spend it, the deliberate care, the observation, even the silly instagram posts. I want to make sure you notice the way lavender gets so close to lemon yellow in a sunset and never muddles into brown. I don’t want you to miss the way the inside of a wildflower looks like fractals. I want to hold your hand and slow you down just enough that you hear how silly the birds sound yelling back and forth as the sun rises, echoing through the buildings. I want to make sure you see how that alley cat has a dark fur question mark on his back as he slinks around the corner. My net worth is more than my bank account, it is the treasures I have tucked in my pockets — little rocks shaped like hearts, a smooth piece of beach glass, an enamel pin I found on my seat the day I met you, a little napkin note that says, “I love you”.
Don’t be in such a hurry. Don’t let it pass you by.
